Brothers, Fathers and Sons: An alternate Ending
by 302pilot
Summary: An alternate ending to the episode "Brothers, Fathers and Sons" S1, Episode 7. Sarge, Johnson and Baker are given another choice in their quest to save the little guy they affectionately named "Judd".
1. Chapter 1

This episode, though heartbreaking, was one of my favorites. I mean no disrespect to the original writers, but I just needed to see something different happen to these brave men and the baby they risked their lives to save. I hope you enjoy this alternate ending!

"Brothers, Fathers and Sons": An alternate ending

By 302pilot

_This story picks up the morning after the night on the ridge, where Sarge sings "Baby Love" and grows more attached to the little guy they named Judd._

After a restless night on the ridge, the three weary soldiers and their small charge set off once again for Firebase Ladybird. They knew that the quick way out would be a signal fire, but there was always the chance that along with a friendly passing aircraft, the fire and smoke could also attract the attention of the enemy, and that could prove disastrous.

After an hour or so of walking in the semi-openness of the hill country Sergeant Anderson paused for a water break. He found a shallow alcove of rocks, sat down and reached for his canteen. As he looked up at his two traveling companions he carefully read their faces, wondering if they were feeling as utterly exhausted as he was himself. Baker was holding baby Judd, who was fussing more than he had been the day before.

"C'mon, man, you have to settle down—we're supposed to be quiet," he whispered to the now screaming baby. Johnson came over to him and extended his canteen to the tall Californian.

"Here, let me take the little guy for a while. Have something to drink, then give some to him," he said as he accepted the wriggling bundle of noise. Baker took a long swig and then tried pouring some into the crying baby's mouth.

"C'mon Judd. You have to drink something..." The water Baker poured ran down the baby's little cheek and caused him to spit and putter. Johnson tried to wipe his mouth and in doing so, brushed his hand across his crimson cheek.

"Hey Sarge—something ain't right with the little guy—he's burning up or something." Johnson felt the two day old's tiny forehead. A look of concern flashed across his face as he knelt down and handed the whimpering baby to the sergeant.

Sergeant Anderson put down his canteen and accepted the little baby ever so gently. He unconsciously shook his head back and forth as he felt the baby's face with his large, calloused hand.

"Oh, man, we don't need this Judd, boy. What's the matter, son—you not been drinking enough water?" He ran his beefy hands over the sick baby's body and held his little frame up to his ear.

"Damn it, Johnson, his little heart is beating so fast—he's really sick. We gotta get you some help, son. Gimme my canteen, Baker." Baker handed him his canteen and Zeke tried to get Judd to drink something-anything. Judd just spit it out again. He ripped a piece of his head rag and saturated it with water and stuck it in Judd's little mouth. This time the little guy sucked it dry.

"Hey—it's working! At least he's getting some of it!" Baker said, forcing a smile. He lowered himself to the ground next to his NCO and leaned back onto his side, groaning. Johnson took a long drink and passed the canteen to Baker, who waved it off.

"We've got at least another day's worth of humping, huh Sarge?" Johnson said, surveying the area around them. They were in the middle of nowhere, the vastness of the central highlands spreading as far as their eyes could see.

The sergeant looked up from tending to little Judd and saw the concern in Johnson's eyes. He knew that they had no food left and water was running very low. And he knew that Judd was dehydrated and getting worse by the hour. He let his eyes drift to the barren countryside around them. This was one of those times when he wished he wasn't the one making the big decisions. There was a certain amount of relief in knowing that the LT took responsibility for what they did and where they went. But the LT wasn't here now. And it wasn't that Zeke couldn't do it, it was just that now it involved a wounded soldier and a helpless child—and the odds were stacked against them.

"How you doing Baker?" he asked, his eyes scanning the exhausted private. He could see that his wounds were severely infected and that Baker, too, was showing signs of dehydration.

"Not too good, Sarge. My back is killing me and I really feel sick." Baker closed his eyes as he tried to make himself more comfortable on the rocky hillside. Sergeant Anderson's attention was drawn back to the sucking baby in his arms.

"Well, now, Judd-boy, we gotta get going soon so Charlie don't find us—so you drink up now—We gotta get you and Baker here some help." He continued to soak the little rag in water and let the baby suck on it. Johnson walked ahead a half a click or so to survey the area. He made his way back and settled himself down next to Baker.

"Sarge—there's an open space on the next ridge over—if we can get over there we could maybe make a signal fire and attract a plane or somethin'," he said as he wiped the sweat from his forehead.

Zeke stood up and looked in the direction Johnson referred to. "That would be a good place to head for, but I bet Charlie will figure on us goin' there too. We've lost him for now, but I bet not for long." He looked down at the two weary soldiers and then at the babe in his arms. He didn't have a choice. They would have to move on and get as far south as they could before nightfall.

"Saddle up—let's move out. Baker…" He asked, crouching down next to the big blond.

"Ya, Sarge?" He answered hesitantly.

"Now, Baker, I know you're in a world of hurt, son, but we gotta keep going—we don't have a choice. I wish I could call in a dust-off for you and Judd here but I can't. Baker?" He put his hand on Baker's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. The young private looked up at is NCO.

"I hear ya, Sarge," he said quietly.

"Alright then. Take my canteen and have yourself a drink and then let's di-di on outta here. C'mon now."

Sarge stood up and looked ahead to Johnson. He knew they were still a good two days walk from the firebase. He also knew that the baby probably wouldn't make it. He shook his head, as if to chase away the bleak picture in his mind and told himself to concentrate on moving on. It was his responsibility to get his men—and baby Judd—back home in one piece. And he wasn't gonna let them down.

"C'mon Judd-man. We can't let Charlie find us, now. You take a little nap so he don't hear you cryin'…" In his heart he prayed that the boy would sleep. His cries would carry across these hills like the screech of a hawk. He looked back at Baker, still on the ground.

"Baker…" he said, as he turned and started down the trail. Johnson helped the big private to his feet.

"Right behind ya, Sarge." Johnson answered for both of them.

"Alright, then. We're almost home," Sarge answered with his lopsided grin, hoping he could talk himself into believing it to be true. They forged on down the hillside with the sergeant in the lead trying desperately to calm the crying infant. The open hillside quickly became the thick, dense jungle of the valley and they were soon enveloped in the hot, humid world under the canopy.

They had traveled for over an hour when Johnson, who was now on point, went down on one knee and hoisted his right fist in the air. Instantly Zeke and Baker were both down, listening to the sound of the jungle around them. Judd seemed to sense the tension in the air and for a moment stopped his crying.

"What is it, Johnson?" Sarge asked in a whisper.

"Don't know, Sarge. Heard something—sounded like voices."

They listened for a long minute. The jungle around them was ablaze with the sounds of monkeys and birds and the ever present buzzing of insects. Sarge motioned back to Baker to hide in the brush along the side of the trail. All three instantly vanished into the thick underbrush. Baby Judd started to fuss again and Sarge quickly stuck a thick pinky into his mouth. Johnson shot him a worried glance as the sound of the hurried footsteps filled the air. Zeke wrapped his arm tightly around the squirming bundle he held, hoping to stifle the sounds the baby was making. He lowered his large frame down as far as he could into the thick cover and positioned his rifle with his other hand, using his knee for support. He knew, in the deep recesses of his mind, that if they were spotted, they wouldn't have a chance.

The encroaching footsteps grew louder and the sound of animals could be heard.

'_Must be villagers'_ Zeke thought to himself. He knew if it were VC or NVA soldiers they wouldn't have heard them coming. The small group passed by without incident.

Johnson let out a sigh of relief as the sergeant motioned for them to stay put for a few minutes longer. He took his pinky out of the squirming baby's mouth and let him cry as he scanned up and down the trail. After a minute or so they slowly climbed out of their hiding place and met on the footpath.

"Man, we were lucky they weren't VC," Baker said as Zeke handed him the baby.

"Well, we don't know that now, Baker. They could be from a VC ville, which means we have to go around it. Keep your eyes and ears open—we don't want them to know we're here."

They started out again, Sarge on point, and worked their way thru the dense forest. They soon came upon a clearing. The three depleted soldiers crouched down and surveyed the area. Off to the south they saw what looked like the remains of a ville, some of the huts still smoldering from the fires that consumed them. There didn't seem to be any life evident.

"You think we did that Sarge—or the VC?" Johnson asked, methodically scanning the area for unfriendlies.

"Don't know, Johnson," Sarge said, shaking his head. "And we're not gonna find out. We'll cut around the north side of the clearing—it's farther away from the hootches. Baker—how you doin, son?" he asked, looking back at him for a brief second, then returning his eyes to the deserted ville.

Baker swallowed hard. "I really need a break, Sarge. I feel really sick…"

Recognizing the signs of dehydration, the sergeant put down his rifle and checked his canteen. Baker unscrewed the top to his and poured the last of his precious water into his parched mouth.

"Johnson, you take Judd for a while, give Baker a break. We'll take five here." He handed Marvin a piece of his head rag. "See if the boy will take some water."

Johnson soaked it in water and gave it to Judd, who sucked crazily.

"He's still so hot, Sarge, but I think the water's made a difference. He's not so fussy…." Johnson said as he held the slurping infant. Sarge glanced down at the little guy, shaking his head.

"You are something…" he said softly. Just then Baker noticed movement on the far side of the ville.

"Sarge—someone's out there-look" He pointed to the two or three huts that were still standing. It was quite a ways away, but they could see a man and a woman carrying an injured person to the other side of the ville. They all strained to see them better and all noticed at the same time that they weren't Vietnamese.

"Sarge—"Johnson start to say.

"I know—I see 'em. They must be Peace Corp or missionaries or something," the sergeant said, straining to see them better.

"Hey Sarge—they probably have medical supplies—they can help Judd—they might even have connections to an orphanage or hospital or something," Johnson said, eyes wide with hope for the little guy. Sarge didn't take his eyes off the two, who went back in the smoldering hooch and came out with another body. Baby Judd started to cry again and Johnson did his best to comfort him, but he wouldn't stop.

"I'm thinking he'd be better off with them, Sarge," Baker added.

Zeke knew that handing the baby over was the smart thing to do. Sooner or later his crying would attract the enemy's attention and probably get the all killed. But his heart was telling him to protect the little guy—to wrap his arms around him and just keep walking until they got home. Despite his better judgment, Zeke had already claimed the child as one of his own—and once Sergeant Anderson laid claim to someone, there was nothing he wouldn't do to protect them. Zeke Anderson was fiercely loyal to those he held close to his heart—his LT, his men and practically any child, orphaned or not, who needed him to champion their cause.

"Sarge…" Johnson started, seeing the indecision in Zeke's eyes.

"I know, Johnson. He needs help. And we need to get home. Just gimme a minute..." Anderson stood up and surveyed the layout of the ville.

"Ok, Johnson, you do what you can to keep him quiet. Baker, you keep your eyes open for Charlie. I'm gonna get a closer look at what's goin' on in the ville. I'll be back."

He picked up his rifle and crept out thru the underbrush. He circled around the north side of the ville, until he could see clearly what the two foreigners were doing. The ville looked to have been burned—by VC or US soldiers, Zeke couldn't tell. But the two volunteers had made what looked to be a small burial ground and were burying the dead villagers. There were a few children squatting by the dead, slowly rocking back and forth on their heels, crying. Zeke had seen this a hundred times before. He had even been the one to light the hootches on fire. He shuttered at the thought and told himself yet again that he was just following orders—he could hear the LT's voice in his head saying_, "It's a war, Sergeant, people die",_ but Zeke Anderson didn't just see 'people' in these villes. He saw families. Brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, children and babies. Real people who, after loosing everything time and time again, had to try and start over with nothing.

_Damn this war._

Zeke shook his head and headed back to his men. As he approached their position he could hear the baby crying 100 yards out. This just reinforced in his mind what he needed to do. He whistled the signal and Johnson whistled back.

"What's it look like Sarge?" Johnson asked, rocking the baby to try to soothe him. The sergeant looked at Baker, then Johnson. He took a deep breath and sighed.

"Well, they're burying their dead. There's a few kids left and I'm hoping they're gonna be takin' them somewhere. I figure I'll just give them Judd and hope they do right by him." With that, he reached for the crying baby.

"Hey there, Judd boy—It's time for us to be moving out now so you gotta settle down so we make a good impression." He stuck his finger in Judd's mouth which quieted him for a bit as the three men moved thru the underbrush.

They finally reached the spot where Zeke had been. From here they could see the two people clearly. One was a man, about 35 or so, dressed in civilian clothes, burying one of the victims. He was drenched in sweat and black with the dirt from the job at hand. They watched as one by one he prayed over the bodies, then gently laid them to rest. The other foreigner was a woman, about 30, dressed in a tank top and cargos. She was holding one of the children, trying to comfort him.

"Looks like they're missionaries," Johnson whispered.

"I don't know, Johnson. But they are takin' good care of those villagers," he said as he turned his attention to the baby he held in his arms.

"Well, now, Judd, this is it, son. Baker, you go 10 meters to the right and keep your eyes and ears open. If anything happens, you run south and don't stop 'till you get to Ladybird—ya hear?" He looked at both men to make sure they understood. He knew this could be a VC ville. There could be enemy soldiers in those hootches. But he had to chance it for Judd's sake—and for theirs.

"Good luck, Zeke. We got your back." Johnson shook Judd's little hand and he and Baker turned and disappeared into the jungle.

Anderson watched as the jungle swallowed up his men. Looking down at the precious baby in his arms, he gently kissed his feverish forehead.

"This is your chance, Judd-boy. Let's do this" he whispered, and stepped out into the open field.

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

The woman was the first to notice him. She slowly stood up and watched as Zeke boldly walked into the devastated ville. He looked dirty and exhausted but his steps were determined as he approached the young woman.

"Now Judd, you make me proud, son. You grow up and be a good man…" he whispered into his little boy's ear.

The woman quickly looked around and motioned for him to take cover against one of the nearby hootches. She then nervously walked over to him and knelt down beside the tired sergeant.

"You musn't be here—this is a VC village. They could be back anytime" she said quietly. "There are tunnels…"

"Lady, I just need to give you this here baby—we found him yesterday and he's, well, he's got a fever and ain't doing too good. We can't take care of him anymore and we gotta get back to our base…" He hesitated for a moment then handed her his charge. She took the wriggling infant from the reluctant soldier and stared at him, a look of disbelief painted on her face.

"I'll make sure he's taken care of—Sergeant…" She was looking for his name.

"Anderson. Zeke Anderson. 196th infantry. Our chopper went down…"

Just then the man spotted Zeke and started toward them.

"My name's Sarah. We're missionaries from Cahm Rahn Bay. Do you need food or water?" she whispered, looking around to see if anyone was watching.

"What's going on, Sarah…" Tom Barns asked, seeing the sergeant and the baby.

Sarah stood up and faced her husband. She held the baby close and with determination answered his question.

"This sergeant found a sick baby. I was telling him he must move on…"

"We can't help you, Sergeant. We're neutral in all this and we have to stay that way. Now you best be going," he said gruffly.

"Yes, sir, I will." He looked one last time at the little bundle in Sarah's arms. "His name's Judd. He's a Montagnard baby. His momma was killed by mortar fire." He stood up to his full height and took his rifle in his hands.

Sarah looked in to the baby's eyes and smiled. "Thank you, Sergeant. We'll take good care of him."

Zeke reached one last time for his little hand. For the first time since they found little Judd, Zeke actually felt a bit of hope—that maybe, just maybe, the baby would make it and be allowed to grow up.

"Thank you, ma'am. I appreciate that,' he said quietly. He looked up at the man and woman, nodded his goodbye then stalked off towards the jungle.

Tom looked sternly at Sarah holding the crying baby.

"If they come back, they're gonna wonder where a Montagnard baby came from! They could kill us or this!"

Sarah's gaze drifted towards the sergeant. She watched as he disappeared into the dense underbrush.

"This baby needs help, Tom. I can't just let him die." She stubbornly glared at him and headed for a rucksack by one of the hootches. She pulled out a baby bottle and a can of milk and soon baby Judd was drinking ravenously. Sarah stood up and turned to where she had last seen the sergeant, hoping that if he was still there, he could see that the baby was ok.

Anderson quickly ran back into the bush where Johnson and Baker were nervously waiting.

"Who are they, Sarge?" Baker asked, easing himself down beside Johnson on the soft jungle floor.

"They're missionaries from Cahm Rahn Bay. Her name's Sarah. She said she'd take good care of Judd. She also said this is a VC village and that they would be back. So we best di-di on outta here. We'll be able to travel faster now. And I know, Baker, you're probably hurtin' real bad, but we don't have much time before sunset and we've got to make it to the high country. Let's get it done."

With that, the three weary men started off again, skirting the ville and heading south towards home. Sarge glanced back for a last look at his boy and saw Sarah feeding Judd a bottle. It put his mind at ease to see him finally getting the care he needed.

The jungle around them gradually became thinner and thinner until eventually the ground became rocky and they were back out into the semi-open hillside. It was early afternoon when Johnson spotted a plane way off in the distance.

"Sarge—look!" He pointed to the south.

Anderson followed Marvin's pointed finger. "Baker, get your mirror!" he said as he pulled his from his pocket. All three started signaling at once, trying in vain to get the far off plane to take notice. The plane showed no sign that it saw them and continued on its original course.

"He's too far away, Sarge. And if there's VC in these hills, we're giving away our position," Johnson said, lowering his signal aide. They stopped and watched as the plane flew on.

"Well, at least we know we're getting closer," the weary sergeant said positively, scanning the area as best he could without binoculars.

"We'll try and make it to that ridge. There's some cover up there for tonight. Baker, you with us?" he asked, seeing that the young private was just about spent. Baker was leaning over with his hands on his knees, looking like he was going to pass out. Sarge saw his wounds exposed by his torn t-shirt. The angry burns were green and full of puss.

"Oh, man, Baker. I wish there was something I could do for ya, I really do, son." He put his hand on Baker's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Baker painfully stood up and looked to where his sergeant wanted them to go.

"Which ridge?" He asked

Sarge pointed south.

"Maybe two or three klicks. Johnson, you take point. Baker, c'mon now, son. You can do this."

Baker shook his head slowly.

"I don't know, Sarge. I'm real….dizzy." Sarge grabbed his arm as his knees buckled under him. The big private succumbed to his weak condition and collapsed into the dirt. Sarge did what he could to keep him from injuring himself further and laid him on his side.

"He's burning up, Johnson. He's had it. We got get him some help." Sarge stood up and ran a dirty hand over his face as Johnson knelt beside his sick friend.

"C'mon, Baker—I thought people from California were tougher than this," Johnson joked. Zeke gave him the rest of his water and stood up.

"This is not good, Johnson. There's no way he's gonna make that ridge."

The sergeant looked around the desolate area, trying desperately to find another option other than the most obvious one.

"You go on, Sarge. I'll stay with him. When you find help you can come back and get us. If we can get him back to the tree line, we'll have some cover. We'll be ok," Johnson offered. While the sergeant was thinking on it, Baker pulled himself up and leaned on a rock.

"You go too, Johnson. I'll be ok by myself. If something happens to Sarge, no one will know where we are. You go with him. Just make sure one of you gets back here with a chopper before dinner. I'm really hungry."

Zeke looked at Johnson. He didn't like the idea of leaving one of his men behind. But they had no means of carrying him and there was no way they would get him up to the top of that ridge. The chances of staying put and finding help were next to none. There was only one thing for them to do.

"He's got a point Zeke. If you go down, they'd never find us," Johnson added, scanning the horizon.

Zeke unconsciously shook his head slowly from side to side. "I don't like leaving you alone out here, Baker. But we don't seem to have a choice. Johnson and I will be able to move a lot faster. We'll get up on that ridge there and make a signal fire and hopefully by tonight you'll be in Chu Lai flirting with those pretty nurses." The sergeant smiled as best he could, knowing in his heart that their chances were pretty slim.

"Get some rocks, Johnson, and make a pile here to mark this hill. We'll be able to see it better from the air."

They gathered rocks and made a mound about three feet high. When they were done, they each took a swig of Johnson's remaining water and Sarge carefully helped Baker up.

"Baker, how'd you get to be so big?" Sarge joked as he and Johnson helped him down a short ways to the stand of trees they had just come through. They went well off the trail and found a sheltered spot where Baker could hide. Johnson found some branches and covered Baker up so he wouldn't be seen from the trail.

"You've got one clip of ammo no, Baker. If you have to use it, pick your targets well, son. We'll get back to you as soon as we can." He stared at him, indecision written all over his face.

"I'll be alright Sarge. Just don't forget about me," he said as he settled back in the dirt. Sarge stopped what he was doing and laughed, shaking his head.

"Baker, if I live to be 100, and I plan to now—I could never forget about you! Keep your head down." He gave him a pat on the head and started back to the trail. He knew in his head that this was the only thing he could do. But in his heart, he did not like it one bit. He shook it off and stopped just off the trail to wait for Johnson.

"We'll be back, Baker. Don't you worry. You be cool now." Marvin shook his hand as Baker settled down farther into the sheltered area. Johnson made his way back to the waiting sergeant.

"How you doing, Johnson?" he asked, giving the young private the once over.

"I'm ok, Sarge. Really could use something to eat…" he said, rolling his eyes.

"I heard that," Zeke replied and started up the trail.

They walked for hours through the empty countryside. They saw no aircraft or any sign of a search party. After awhile, Johnson broke the silence.

"Hey Zeke—do you think they're looking for us?" Johnson asked as they finally came upon the ridge they were looking for.

"Ya, Johnson, I think they are. If I know the LT, he's probably making himself a royal pain in the butt asking for choppers to search the area we went down in. But this is a war—and he might have searched for awhile and then got called off for a mission. If it were up to him, I don't think he'd stop looking for us 'till he found us."

Zeke knew his LT. and he knew he wouldn't sleep until all his men were home.

Back at Ladybird, Lt. Goldman was camped out in the communications tent, awaiting any word from the roadrunners as to the whereabouts of Anderson and his men. He knew that they could still be alive—they had found the chopper and the burned bodies of the pilot and co-pilot. They also found the body of the gunner, dragged a few feet from the bird. The skid marks in the dirt indicated that he was dragged by someone away from the burning chopper. The LT just decided that it must have been Anderson. After an hour or two of no news, Goldman left the com tent for the sanctuary of his hootch. As he walked through the camp, he saw Percell and Taylor sitting on some sandbags, cleaning their weapons.

"Any news, LT?" Taylor asked as he jumped up from the damp resting spot.

"Naw, nothing. They still have a few hours of daylight left. They might spot something yet." He wanted to tell them that it would be ok—that the Sergeant was the best soldier he knew and he was sure they would all come out of it fine. But he just couldn't find the words—he was starting to have doubts himself.

"Hey, LT, maybe we could…" Percell started.

"Percell, we have done all we can. Just keep doing what you were doing and I'll let you know if I hear anything." The lieutenant pulled out his cigarettes and made a bee line for his tent. He knew the rest of Anderson's squad was feeling the same way—helpless. And he didn't want to have to answer any more questions.

He entered his dark olive drab tent and groped around his desk for his lighter. He found it and lit the long white tube, anticipating the calming relief it would bring to him in only a few short seconds. Smoking and Jack Daniels had become his only escape in this hell-hole they called home. He contemplated having a small drink—just to take the edge off—but he quickly dismissed it. He needed to be at his best if a call came in to go pick up his men. At the edge of his mind was this nagging thought that Anderson was not coming back. He kept telling himself that it was possible—his days of humping the boonies with his dependable, experienced NCO might be over. Then he told himself that it would be ok. He would get assigned another sergeant, one who may be as competent and easy to work with as Zeke. Reality set in as he slumped down on his bed, closing his eyes. With a hitch in his voice, he said to the darkness, "I can't do this without you, Zeke. Please, God. Bring him home."

TBC…..


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

It was a hard scramble to get to the top, but finally Anderson and Johnson peered over the rim of the flat topped bluff. When he was satisfied that they were alone, Anderson heaved his heavy frame up and over the edge, collapsing against the only rock available for cover. Johnson was right behind, quickly scanning the area. The two sat there, breathing heavily from the strenuous climb. The effects of two days of no food and very little water were weighing heavily on them, and they knew that if they didn't find help soon, their chances of getting out of the bush alive were slim to none.

Johnson wiped his face with his sleeve and glanced over at the NCO.

"Now what, Sarge? I figure we have about three hours of daylight left," he said trying to catch his breath. Sarge closed his eyes and tried to slow his breathing.

"You alright, Sarge?" Johnson asked, suddenly afraid he might be losing his sergeant too.

"Ya, Johnson, just gimme a minute…." Zeke replied, his head spinning from the exertion of the climb and dehydration. He opened his eyes and looked around. They had a bit of shelter from the boulder they were leaning up against, but other than that it was wide open space. With great difficulty he hoisted himself up and surveyed the area.

"Find whatever you can that'll burn and pile it over there. We're only gonna have one chance at this, Johnson. Once this is lit, Charlie will know exactly where we are."

They searched the area for sticks and debris, and soon they had a mound of dry wood and grasses. When they had gathered all they could, they sat down in the shade against the boulder and waited. Sarge took out his canteen and gave it a shake. Nothing.

"I'm out, too" Johnson said, hopelessly. "Somebody better come by soon. Do you know where we are, Sarge?"

Zeke looked out over the vast green valley below them_. Another time, another place and this would be a really beautiful spot,_ he thought to himself. "I know we're south of the highlands—and our people are south of us" he said wearily. That seemed to be enough to satisfy Marvin's curiosity. Zeke got up and moved to the other side of the boulder so they could see all of the horizon. Just then he saw a plane in the distance—

"Light the fire! Johnson!"

Johnson lept to his feet and ran to the wood pile. He flicked open his lighter and soon the mass of dry wood was ablaze with flame and black smoke. The two soldiers waved their arms in the air and screamed for help. The small plane changed direction and flew directly over them, tipping its wings in an effort to communicate that it had indeed seen them. The two weary soldiers were filled with new hope as the plane circled around and veered off to the south.

Smiling and shaking his head in amazement, Zeke watched as the Piper Cub flew off into the southern sky.

"Ha! Ha!" Johnson yelled, overwhelmed with relief that they were finally found. "They'll send a chopper for us, won't they Sarge?" he said, shielding his eyes from the intense afternoon light as he watched the plane fly away.

"I hope so, Johnson. Now keep your eyes and ears open. If Charlie's out there, I'm sure he's spotted us too."

Baker had fallen into a fitful sleep when he was awakened by the sounds of a baby crying and something being yelled in Vietnamese. He froze as he heard the voice of a woman screaming back in English. Slowly, he moved his head until he could see two VC soldiers forcing the missionary Sarah down the trail, holding baby Judd. Her over shirt was covered in blood and her face was bruised and bleeding but she moved with determination, holding the baby tightly against her chest.

Baker set his rifle on semi and lined one of the VC up in his sights. Very slowly he pulled the trigger—Sarah heard the report and swung around in time to see the lead VC fall to the ground. The second C ran for cover as Baker lined him up and squeezed the trigger again. This time he missed. Sarah clung to Judd and lunged for the dead V's weapon. She managed to grab the strap and dragged it with her to the safety of the bush along the path. Meanwhile, the other VC slowly crept closer to the area where he had heard the shot fired.

Baker didn't move. Through a fever induced haze he scanned the jungle around him. The VC soldier had done what he does best—disappeared. Baker closed his eyes and silently willed himself to stop trembling. He knew the VC was on his way to find him, and he was helpless to do anything about it. Suddenly, he heard the lightest crack of a twig off to his right. He opened his eyes and panned them in the direction of the sound. Just as he was about to move his rifle, a shot rang out through the still humid air…..

Baker jumped, thinking he had been hit—but off to his right he heard a heavy "thud". The VC soldier hit the ground—dead. Behind him about 20 yards stood Sarah, rifle still aimed at her victim. She looked ahead to where Baker was buried and saw the muzzle of his rifle. Heading back to where she had hidden the baby, she stopped to drag the lifeless bodies of the two VC soldiers into the brush, covering them with debris. She picked up the now crying baby and made her way to were Baker was hiding.

"Sergeant Anderson-?" she said quietly, as she lifted the brush away. Scott Baker lay there, breathing heavily, ready to pass out.

"No. Sarge went to get help," he said with great effort. Sarah knelt down and felt his face.

"How long have you been here?" she whispered, putting down Judd and pulling the branches back over the three of them.

"A few hours. They're headed for the ridge to make a signal fire. They're coming back for me."

Sarah laid her hand on his arm. "I'll stay here with you until he comes. My name is Sarah." She found his canteen and gently raised it to his lips. He gratefully drank what was left and settled back into the cool earth.

"I'm Scott. Scott Baker. Thanks for keeping the little guy safe."

Sarah held Judd close and settled in next to the feverish soldier, gently rocking the baby in an effort to soothe him to sleep. His fever, too, was raging and she knew if help didn't arrive soon, she would find herself alone.

Johnson and Sarge both heard the shots way off in the distance. Sarge grabbed his rifle and commandoed to the other side of the bluff. Johnson followed.

"Ya think it was Baker?" Johnson asked. Sarge shook his head. In his mind's eye he saw Baker being overrun by VC soldiers with no one to help him, which made the guilt he was feeling for leaving the private sting like an open wound.

"Don't know. Was in that direction—"

Just then a shot rang out and ricocheted off the boulder behind them.

"Take cover!" Sarge yelled. They both dove for what little cover was available.

"Did you see anything?" the sergeant yelled. Johnson rolled to his left and scanned the area.

"I got three coming up the north side. I'll try to get an angel on 'em, Sarge."

He rolled over farther and got up to run when more shots were fired and Jonson went down.

"Johnsonnnnnn!" Sarge gasped, seeing the blood gush from a wound above the private's eye.

Johnson lay there, motionless, blood running down his face.

"Johnson—"Zeke whispered, his voice tight with shock. He was now pinned down, alone on a bald ridge with nowhere to hide. A wave of panic rolled over his exhausted body and for a split second he thought of Judd—and Katie, his beautiful little girl—then Baker.

Baker!

He shook his head, more determined than ever to live to fight another day. He had to make it or they'd never find Baker. He rolled until he was behind the big boulder. Peeking around the corner, he started firing at the three approaching VC. Two went down, but the third took cover in the sparse underbrush.

Sarge's clip was now empty—he felt his pockets for another clip, only to find that he was totally out of ammo. He lay there up against the rock, sweat dripping down his face, knowing full well that he had to get to Johnson's rifle which was on the other side of the boulder. All was quiet asZeke rolled to the far side where Johnson's body lay unmoving.

"Johnson—speak to me Johnson!" he whispered. He saw his rifle about a meter away. Closing his eyes he took a deep breath and dove for the unattended firearm. The third VC fired from 10 meters down the hill, hitting the sergeant in the leg. Grabbing his bleeding leg with a groan, Anderson kept going, snatching the rifle and taking cover in a dip in the ground. Just then he heard the sweetest sound his ears remembered hearing—off in the distance the sound of rotor blades cut through the air. Incoming choppers!

_All I have to do is stay alive. _

He looked behind him and saw that the bluff dropped off sharply. To his left was the boulder and Johnson. The boulder was his best bet. Once more he held his breath and dove for the relative safety of the boulder. This time the VC anticipated his move and fired repeatedly, hitting him in the arm and grazing his side. Anderson made it to the boulder and collapsed in pain, blood oozing from his torn arm. With every ounce of energy he could muster, he took Johnson's weapon, laid down on his belly and took aim from a space under the boulder.

The sound of the huey grew louder as Sarge's heart seemed to pound in rhythm with the rotors. The VC heard the chopper as well and decided to take off running. He quickly retreated down the path, but only made it three steps before the sergeant nailed him with a single shot. He fell to the ground, lifeless.

Sergeant Anderson breathed a sigh of relief. He lay face down in the dirt as the huey flew over top of him, looking for a place to land. Quickly Zeke rolled himself over and cringed as the sharp pain in his side rendered him immobile. He tried to put pressure on it, but he couldn't reach very well with his injured arm. After a long minute he pushed himself up and dragged himself over the where Johnson lay.

"Johnson—C"mon Johnson—talk to me, son—we're going home now….." He pulled Johnson's seemingly lifeless body onto his lap and felt for a pulse—he was still alive, but he had lost a lot of blood. Zeke took his head rag and wrapped it around his friend's head to stop the bleeding. He then hugged the wounded soldier against his chest holding him with his uninjured arm while trying to stop the blood flow from the hole in his right calf. He slowly started to rock himself back and forth in an effort to keep himself from passing out.

"C'mon, Johnson. Talk to me, Johnson." His voice seemed miles away.

"Baker, Johnson. We have to go get Baker," he whispered. Slowly his eyes closed as the strength drained from his body.

On the other side of the boulder, LT and Doc Matsuda slowly crept up the hill. The huey had dropped them off, along with Percell and 2 other soldiers and circled around, providing air over. They came upon the three dead VC, lying in the small clearing in front of the giant boulder. Myron quickly crouched down low and listened for a long minute.

_There must only have been three 'cause they never leave their dead,_ he thought to himself. Being satisfied that there were none lying in wait for him, he sent Percel and the other two soldiers out to provide a security barrier and then proceeded to the boulder and around the other side. He was not prepared for what he found. Leaning against the boulder in a pool of blood was Sergeant Anderson, rocking a blood-covered private Johnson. His eyes were closed and he was talking softly to the incoherent soldier. The LT and Doc quickly scanned the area and crawled over to the wounded soldiers. LT put his hand gently on Zekes shoulder, at a loss for words at the scene before him.

"Anderson?" Doc asked, visually accessing the men's many injuries but more concerned about the sergeant's mental state at the moment. Anderson slowly opened his eyes, but looked far away, not seeming to notice the men at his side.

LT bit his lip nervously, gripping his sergeant's shoulder, trying to ground him with his presence. He finally looked over at Doc, eyes pleading for him to tell him what he should do.

"Talk to him, LT. Let him hear your voice—"

Myron let go of Zeke's shoulder and moved in front of the big sergeant, right in his line of sight.

"Zeke, let him go—Doc can help Johnson—c'mon. I'm here. You're safe now. You can let him go."

Very slowly, blue eyes met brown, and Zeke's lips started to move. He was whispering something, too soft for the LT to hear. He moved in closer as Doc pried the unconscious private out of Zeke's strong arms. As soon as he was free from Johnson's weight, Zeke fell back against the boulder with a heavy sigh. It was then that the LT saw the blood flowing freely from his leg and hurried to stem the flow.

"How's is he, Doc?" Goldman asked, looking over at Johnson's still form as he tied up Zeke's leg.

"He's alive. Lost a lot of blood. From what I can see it's just a deep graze." He put in an IV and moved over to Zeke's side.

Doc quickly accessed the big sergeant and did not like what he found. "Oh, man, he's lost a lot of blood LT. He's got a deep wound in his side and leg and his arm is a mess. Lay him down." Goldman did as he was told Doc could get to work.

"Talk to him, LT. He's going into shock," Matsuda said, quickly putting in an IV and binding up his wounds.

Myron searched his thoughts for something to say—anything—he gently laid his hand on Zeke's leg and looked up at his sergeant. He was elated that he was alive—but why couldn't he find the words to tell him? He quickly glanced at Doc and licked his lips nervously. Finally he summoned the courage to do what he needed to do.

"Hey—you made it—a mail plane spotted your smoke and radioed Ladybird—we got here as soon as we could…" It was then that he realized that Baker wasn't with them.

"Zeke—"he hesitated. Zeke looked up at him, the color slowly draining from his face.

"We left Baker," he said softly and deliberately. "North of our position. Marked the hill with a cairn. 50 meters into the jungle on the right of the trail. Burned bad. VC ville is close by. Gotta go get him. Can't…. Leave him there." He made a pitiful attempt to get up but was met with the LT's firm grip.

"We'll pick him up, Sergeant. But Doc's gotta patch you up first. Let him do his job" Myron helped him lay back down. The big sergeant allowed himself to be pushed backwards, covering his eyes with his good arm.

"I shouldn't have left him, LT. I shouldn't have left him there alone." Zeke was slipping into shock as Doc opened up the IV, letting the lifesaving liquid flood his system. Goldman nervously looked at Matsuda, who patted Zeke on the shoulder affirmingly.

"I'm sure he's fine, Sarge. We'll get you and Johnson to the chopper then go pick him up. You ready to roll?" Sarge didn't answer. Myron unwrapped the poncho and the two men carefully loaded up Anderson. The chopper had landed again and they gently carried him down the rocky bluff and loaded him into the waiting skiff. Percell and his men had already grabbed Johnson and brought him down and laid him beside the sergeant. The LT and Doc climbed aboard, Doc positioning himself between the two injured soldiers while Goldman grabbed the pilot's shoulder.

"We've got a man down a few klicks to the north—look for a mound of stones marking his position, but watch for unfriendlies. Zeke says there's a VC ville close by."

As the pilot nodded his reply, he gently lifted the lifesaving bird into the air, heading towards the spot where Baker lay waiting. Myron slid down the back of the pilot's seat and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. His eyes found his sergeant, unconscious but alive and he allowed himself a small, nervous smile. Reaching for Zekes lifeless hand, he held on tight—needing to feel for himself that his NCO—his _friend_, was really there with him.

_Rest easy, Zeke. We'll bring you all home_.

TBC…

Author's note: Thank you to the guest that took the time to review-I appreciate the feedback and am glad you are enjoying this story!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Baker lay in the spot Sarge had left him, with Sarah and baby Judd close beside him. He was burning with fever and delirious with pain. Though she was a trained nurse, Sarah was helpless to do anything for the ailing soldier. They had no water or food, and the enemy could be back any minute. Judd was quiet, having been fed back at the village. She was so thankful she had kept a can or two of her son's formula in her pack. Thinking of her son brought a wave of grief that she couldn't shake off. She saw so clearly in her mind that night a few months ago. She could smell the moisture in the air, could hear the gunfire and the screams of the villagers. She closed her eyes and held Judd lose and tried desperately to will the memories away. Just then she heard the sound of the chopper. She gently tried to wake Baker, but he had slipped into shock and was not responding. She pushed away the shrubs and started for the footpath when she saw two American soldiers entering the jungle from the open country. They walked about 50 paces, turned and looked into the underbrush directly at Sarah. The LT took aim at her, thinking she was a VC. Freezing in place, Sarah slowly raised a hand and waved them in.

The LT didn't know what to think—he was looking for Baker, not for a civilian with a baby. He climbed thru the thick jungle and approached the battered woman.

"I'm looking for a wounded GI. My sergeant said he left him in this area." Goldman kept his gun trained on the woman and continued to walk towards her.

"Private Baker is very sick and needs medical attention right away," she whispered. "He's over here…" She led the way to the pile of brush. Together, they uncovered the wounded private. Doc immediately accessed the situation and started an IV to help the dehydrated man. Myron looked around nervously as Doc finished up.

"You ok, Ma'am?" the LT asked, helping the doc load up the big Californian.

"Yes,sir, but the baby needs medical attention also," she said quietly, as the soldiers proceeded to carry Baker to the waiting chopper.

"I'll check him out on the way back," Doc replied, straining to carry the heavy private. They hurried to the waiting bird and loaded everyone up. Sarah climbed in and settled herself next to the wounded sergeant Anderson. He was unconscious but stable, as the chopper lifted off for the evac hospital at Chu Lai. Doc checked Baker, then took a look at the little baby in Sarah's arms.

"He looks dehydrated, but he should be ok. I'm out of IV's but we've got water we can feed him on the way. We'll be in Chu Lai soon. They can take care of him there," he yelled over the sound of the rotors.

He gave him back to Sarah, who hugged him close to her body. She took the proffered canteen and, ripping off a piece of her overshirt she soaked it in water and gave it to the thirsty infant. She leaned back against the co-pilot's seat and stared blankly out the door of the huey.

The LT leaned back against the pilot's seat and breathed a huge sigh of relief. He knew his sergeant and men were in bad shape, but they were alive. Johnson was awake now, and Doc was helping him to sit up. He head was wrapped in blood-laden bandages and his eyes were closed, but he was conscious, which was a good sign. Baker was on his stomach awake now but delirious from the high fever.

The LT's eyes came to rest on his sergeant. He quickly looked away and out the door of the huey. Seeing Zeke like this was too difficult—he had only known him a short time, but in that time he had come to rely on his strength and experience. They had been through a lot in the few short months they had served together and Myron had rarely seen him hurt, or weak, or not in control. It was then that the young lieutenant realized just how much he depended on the sergeant—not only for the leadership of his men, but as a friend.

Being in charge was a lonely position, and the LT was prepared for that when he came over here. But what he wasn't prepared for was the emotional strain and the exhaustion that left him feeling farther and farther removed from the person he used to be. And yet, his sergeant somehow seemed to hold it together—to hold them all together. He had this uncanny ability to move on—to put it all behind him, or put it somewhere, perhaps to be dealt with at a later time? Myron didn't know. But every morning he got up and did his job—better than any other sergeant Goldman knew. And it was that strength the LT drew from and counted on every day to survive.

The thought that his sergeant—his friend—might not be there to see him through gave him a sick feeling in his stomach. The last two days had been nerve-wracking for Goldman. At least now he knew that they were okay and on their way to get the help they needed. He just wished there was more he could do.

Baby Judd had started to cry again as they circled the Evac hospital compound. The Huey pitched to the right and Anderson, feeling the harsh movement of the chopper, opened his eyes. Startled, his eyes flew from one side of the Huey to the other—he saw Johnson on his left, with Doc net to him. He saw Baker beside him, but his face was turned the other way. He quickly turned his head to see Sarah on his right holding baby Judd.

He stared at her for a long minute, not fully comprehending what he saw.

She was staring out the door, lost somewhere far away. He squinted and picked up his good arm to rub his eyes, but was inhibited by the IV. Goldman saw his struggle and leaned over and took his arm. Zeke lifted his head and, seeing the LT, breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hey, we're almost to Chu Lai. You're gonna be alright" he said as he gently put Zeke's arm back down at his side and fixed the clear tubing of the IV. The sergeant put his head back down with a thump and looked over at Sarah and Judd. She leaned over and gently placed the fussing baby stomach down on the Sarge's chest. Judd immediately stopped his fussing. Sarge looked down at the warm bundle, who seemed to be soothed by the beating of Sarge's heart. He put his arm protectively over the little guy and held him close.

The LT looked on, not fully understanding the connection, but seeing that there was a bond between the little orphan and the big orphan. It was then that he saw a big tear trace its way down Zeke's dirty face. Sarah gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze as the chopper landed on the pad. Taking the baby, she climbed out of the flying ambulance. Zeke closed his eyes and surrendered again to the overwhelming weakness that engulfed his body. The LT took his IV and yelled to the orderlies to take Zeke first. He then walked along side as they brought him in, followed closely by Baker and Johnson.

As soon as they were inside, the triage doctor stopped the LT at the door. "You can't go in there, Lieutenant. We'll take it from here" he said in a rushed voice as he quickly pushed Myron aside to look at Zeke's wounds. The LT stepped to the side and watched as they ushered the sergeant quickly down the hall. Matsuda came up beside him as Johnson and Baker were wheeled by.

Lieutenant Goldman stood there silently, feeling utterly helpless. Doc looked up at his CO, noticing the bewildered look in his eyes.

"They'll take good care of them, LT. Let's go get some coffee. We can check in on them in a little while."

Goldman looked at the young medic, then down the hall. Resigning himself to the fact that there was nothing more he could do, he reluctantly allowed Doc to lead him away.

Sarah was taken to another room and the baby was checked out by the nurse on duty.

"He's a strong litte guy—for being only two days old," she said, wrapping him in a light blanket. "He's severely dehydrated, but a day or two on an IV should do the trick. We should see an improvement almost immediately."

The nurse looked over at Sarah, noticing the blood stains on her shirt. "Let me take a look at your arms" she offered, pointing at the soiled spots. Sarah looked down at her arms, searching her memory for the reason for the blood stains. It all had happened so fast—the baby was in her arms—or was it Tom….She looked up at the waiting nurse, confusion clouding her eyes. "Let me help you with that," the nurse finally said, reaching for her shirt.

Crossing her arms in front of her, Sarah found her voice. "Thank you, but I'm ok. Really. I'm fine. I appreciate your help with Judd. Can I give him something to eat? He had part of a can of milk a while ago."

The nurse backed off, not wanting to upset the woman and turned her attention to the baby resting in the makeshift crib. "I'll see if I can find some formula and a baby bottle." She turned to go but stopped, looking back at Sarah. Quietly, she tried one more time.

"Are you sure you're ok?" She asked with genuine regard. Sarah turned and looked into the younger woman's dark eyes._ Speaking it will make it real_, she thought. She had to concentrate on the baby, getting him better so she could take him to Cahm Rahn Bay—to the orphanage. She feigned a smile and shook her head in an attempt to chase away the memories that were starting to fill her mind.

"I'm fine, really. Thank you for your concern."

The nurse nodded a smile and left to find the needed supplies to feed the hungry baby. Sarah walked to Judd's side and held his little hand in her fingers. He looked so peaceful—his color was getting better and he was breathing more normally. She sat down next to him and, resting her head on the back of the chair, she closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

It was nearly two hours later when the attending doctor found the LT and Doc Matsuda in the waiting room. He filled them in on the status of the three men and told them they could visit them, just for a few minutes. Relief flooded over Myron as he walked quickly down the hallway, his heart skipping a beat as he found the room where his friend lay recuperating. He approached the door hesitantly, not really knowing what he was going to find. Randy came up behind him and, peeking around the LT, he gently slipped around him and into the room.

The room was crowded with five or six beds, all filled with wounded GI's. The beds were lined up around the perimeter of the room, with undrawn curtains separating the individual sections. Myron's eyes scanned the room, coming to rest on the good sergeant. He walked over to his bedside and stood there for a long minute. Zeke was asleep—or unconscious, he didn't know. He was pale and drawn, nothing like the Sergeant Anderson Myron knew. The LT awkwardly reached out and touched his hand, relieved to feel that it was warm—_alive_—he thought to himself. Just then Zeke's eyes opened and he looked up at the LT.

"Hey…" Myron started, choking back the lump that was growing in his throat and letting go of the sergeant's hand. Zeke smiled his lopsided grin.

"Hey, LT," he answered weakly.

"Doc says you're gonna be good to go for the mission tomorrow," he joked. Sarge closed his eyes and shook his head carefully from side to side.

"Skids up at 0600. I'll be there."

Myron chuckled. "I bet you would, too, if you weren't sedated. You heal up, now, Sergeant. We can't fight this war without you." He turned to go but the sergeant grabbed his arm.

"LT…..how's Baker and Johnson?"

The lieutenant looked across the room to where Doc was talking quietly to Private Johnson. "They'll be fine, Sergeant. You and Baker will be here a week or so, and Johnson can come back in a few days."

"And the baby, Sir?" Zeke asked, concern flashing in his piercing eyes.

The LT had forgotten about the baby, and the woman holding him.

"I don't know, Zeke. I'll see what I can find out."

"His name is Judd. We named him Judd." And with that, the sergeant closed his eyes and fell asleep.

The lieutenant walked over to where Johnson lay, wondering to himself where the civilian and the baby figured in. He knew the sergeant would fill him in on all the details when he was feeling better. Johnson looked up at his CO and smiled. He was sitting up talking to Doc Matsuda.

"Good to see you alive, Johnson," the LT said in his best officer voice.

"Thank you, Sir. You got there just in time. We really thought that was it up on that ridge."

"Get better, Private. We'll see you in a few days," He turned to see Baker, but noticed he was asleep. "Tell Baker when he wakes up that I was asking for him," he said with a nod.

"I will, Sir. Thank you," Johnson said quietly.

The lieutenant made his way down the hallway, looking for someone who might know where the baby was being kept. The smell of alcohol, bedpans and burnt flesh was making his stomach turn. Just as he was about to give up, he saw Sarah sitting outside on the ramp. Opening the door he walked out into the evening twilight. She was sitting alone, knees pulled up to her chest, staring blankly at the rapidly darkening camp around her. He folded and unfolded his cap in his hands, searching for something to say, when she quietly looked up at him.

"Lieutenant," she said, dangling her legs over the side of the ramp. "How are your men?"

Myron lowered his gaunt frame and sat down next to her. He pulled out his cigarettes and lighter and offered her a smoke. She waved a 'no, thanks'.

"They'll be okay. Anderson and Baker will be here a week or so. Johnson, only a few days." He deftly lit up and took a long draw.

"I'm glad to hear it. I'm Sarah Barns." She extended her hand in greeting. Myron absently put the cigarette back in his mouth and grasped her hand.

"Myron Goldman. 196th infantry brigade. Thank you, by the way, for whatever you did to help Private Baker. I know it meant a lot to him to not be alone in the bush." He took another long drag on the cigarette, then slowly exhaled the noxious smoke, watching it rise into the muggy night air.

Sarah pulled one knee up to her chin and hugged her leg, starring off into the growing darkness. She knew the young lieutenant probably wanted some kind of explanation about the events of the day, but she didn't know where to start. She was still trying to make some sense of it herself.

"My sergeant was asking about the baby….." Myron started.

Sarah smiled. "He'll be fine. He's a strong little guy. I met your sergeant when he came into our village this morning. The baby was very sick and needed medical attention," she said quietly. Myron took another drag on his rapidly shortening cigarette and thought about what she said.

"So the sergeant brought the baby to you," he said matter of factly, trying to clarify just where the baby came from.

"Yes. He said he was a Montagnard baby and his mother had been killed by mortar fire. The little guy wasn't more than two or three days old. He had a really high fever and was very dehydrated." Sarah stopped there and seemed to be lost in thought while Goldman tried to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

"What were you doing out there anyway? Didn't you know Charlie owns that valley" he said with a confused look.

"Our village, Van Doh, was a friendly ville. No VC, or so we thought. For the last five years we've gone into that village twice a month to bring food and medical supplies and help where we can. We were making real progress—and we thought the VC were leaving them alone." She looked down, the events of the day coming flooding back into her memory.

"Well, chances are that VC were moving in as soon as you moved out and they were probably taking any supplies you were leaving there. Most likely the villagers were afraid that their ville would be burned if they stopped giving up the supplies. That's just how the VC operates. You've probably been supplying the VC for quite some time."

Myron shifted his position so he could rest his foot on the steps. He didn't see Sarah quickly brush away the tear that threatened to spill down her dirty cheek. He shook out another cigarette and held it in his lips while he lit it. It was then that he realized what he had said and how it must have sounded.

"It's just—we see this all the time. I understand that the Peace Corp, or missionary agencies, or any number of 'do—gooders' think that they can make a difference in these villes, when the fact of the matter is, the VC hold most of them in their grip." He glanced over at the older woman, who was looking up at the slowly brightening stars.

"So my husband died for nothing," she said, almost inaudibly.

Myron felt his heart sink within him. He stared down at his feet and closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

"Its okay, Lieutenant," she said, wiping a tear from her cheek. "The last time we were there, we stumbled on a tunnel system they had been hiding from us. There had been VC all along. I'd like to think the villagers benefited somewhat from the help we gave. I have to believe that. Or it will have all been for nothing."

They sat in silence for a long minute, the lieutenant taking the last drag from his cigarette before crushing it out with his heel. Sarah took a deep breath and wiped her dirty face with her shirt sleeve.

"Well, at least the baby will have a home, of sorts. Your organization must have a place where you and he can go," he said, sliding easily off the ramp and standing in front of Sarah. She looked up at him and noticed a look of resignation in his eyes—or was it just acceptance of the inevitable? For a long minute she looked into his dark brown eyes, trying to make some kind of sense out of what he just said_. Well, at least the baby…._

She furrowed her brow and stared back at him. Myron noticed the intensity of her stare and shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. He knew that this was probably the first time she had verbalized what had happened today and it was taking some time to sink in.

"Can I walk you back to your room?" he asked, anxious to get back to Zeke to give him the news about the baby. Sarah regrouped, shaking her head slightly and jumping off the ramp. "I'm sorry. I just haven't thought all this through yet. Yes, thank you," and they slowly make their way back to where the baby was being fed by the nurse. Acknowledging their presence, the nurse handed the baby and bottle over to Sarah, who sat down and continued feeding the hungry infant.

The LT looked down at the little guy and smiled, shaking his head.

"Your sergeant had a difficult time giving this guy up. I think he would have carried him all the way home if the boy wasn't so sick." She paused and looked down at Judd, who had temporarily stopped eating and fallen asleep. "He didn't seem like a soldier…" she said, caressing the bay's head.

Goldman smiled. "Oh, he's all soldier, Ma'am. He just has a real compassion for people that actually makes him one of the best sergeants I've ever worked with." They stared at the baby, sleeping peacefully in Sarah's arms. "I'll let him know the baby's gonna be fine." He turned to go, but stopped and looked back at Sarah.

"You gonna be ok?" he asked with genuine concern.

Sarah looked over at him and sighed inwardly. "Ya. Thanks. I think we'll go to Cahm Rahn Bay. Our organization has an orphanage there. And who knows—I may even see if I can take the little guy back to the states with me. I've got a lot of things to sort out. But we'll be okay."

Myron nodded his goodbye and left the dimly lit room. As he made his way back to Zeek's room he couldn't help but think how incredibly alone that woman must feel—how tragic this war was to so many people, even those who were genuinely trying to help. He shook his head, trying to chase away the thoughts that were clouding his mind._ I'm a soldier_, he thought to himself._ It's a war. People die_. He wondered just how many times he had tried to comfort himself with that cliché.

The LT stopped at Anderson's door and contemplated what to tell him. The good sergeant would feel responsible for the death of Sarah's husband. Not tonight, he thought to himself, and entered the dimly lit room.

Off in the corner of the sparsely furnished hospital room was a lone lamp, emitting a soft glow. Myron stopped momentarily, scanning the room. Johnson, Baker and two other Gi's were asleep, but Zeke was sitting up, staring at some point far away. He looked as if her were concentrating on something he couldn't remember. Myron quietly walked to his side, unconsciously folding and unfolding his cap in his hands. Zeke heard him approach and looked over at his lieutenant.

"Hey, LT." he said in a scratchy voice.

"You look like 30 miles of bad road" the LT said, softly, smiling. Zeke quietly laughed and shook his head.

"Well, LT, I FEEL like 30 miles of bad road. But I'll tell you what—I think I'll stay here as long as they'll have me, if those nurses will give me another bath…" He smiled, mischief dancing in his deep blue eyes.

Myron laughed. He was so glad to see that his sergeant hadn't lost his good humor.

"I heard that, Sergeant. You take all the time you need. The war's not goin' anywhere." He paused, fiddling with his hat. "I talked with that missionary lady and your kid's gonna be fine. The organization she works for has an orphanage in Cahm Rahn Bay and she's gonna make arrangements to take him there. She wanted you to know he's doing much better."

Zeke smiled and shook his head. "LT, I really thought I was dreamin, ya know? When we were on the chopper and I opened my eyes and she was there—holding Judd. How'd you find her anyway?" he asked, his eyes searching Goldman's face. Myron hesitated, not wanting to get into this tonight.

"She actually was with Baker, and we found the three of them right were you left them. You did the right thing leaving Baker. He was hurt pretty badly and would have never made it to the ridge." He looked over at the sleeping private.

"Doc says he'll be ok. Johnson too. I'll tell ya, LT, leaving him out there alone—I hope I never have to do that again." Zeke's voice trailed off as he slowly shook his head.

"Yeah, that was a tough call. But you all were lucky, and it worked out in the end." He looked down at his toilworn sergeant, noticing how he was struggling

to keep his eyes from closing. He quickly looked at his watch, searching his mind for an excuse to leave.

"Hey, it's getting late and I have to try to hop a chopper back to base. You take it easy and don't give those nurses too hard a time—that's an order," the lieutenant said, smiling.

"Roger that, Sir. I'll do my best…" Zeke said quietly, with that mischievous glint in his eye. The LT went to go, but hesitated, looking back at his friend.

"You did good, Zeke. You brought them all back alive. But I'll tell ya," he laughed an uncomfortable laugh. "I didn't like the feeling of you being out there without me."

Zeke looked up at the lieutenant, understanding full well the meaning of what he said.

"LT, not making it home was never an option" he said slowly, in a deep, quiet voice. The two soldiers' eyes locked for a long second, a mutual feeling of appreciation settling between them. "Besides, I pity the poor sergeant that replaces me…" Zeke said, grinning from ear to ear.

Once again, Myron was amazed at how Zeke could diffuse him—his worry, his concern, his feeling uncomfortable with being close to anyone.

"I'm that bad, huh?" Myron replied with a silly grin, looking down at his crushed hat.

"Yessir, you are. But I wouldn't want to be serving with anyone else."

In the dim light of that hospital room, Zeke could see that his comment meant the world to the young man.

"Goodnight, Sir," he said quietly.

Myron fixed his hat, at a loss for words. "Goodnight, Sergeant" he finally said, turning on his heel and leaving Zeke to his thoughts.

TBC….


	5. Chapter 5

Brothers, Fathers and Sons: An Alternate Ending

Chapter 5

The nurses had everyone up early the next day. Zeke was able to hobble around on a crutch, much to the chagrin of the head nurse, who couldn't seem to keep him in one place. It was early in the afternoon when he slowly made his way down to the room where Judd was being kept. He quietly peeked in and saw Sarah sleeping in a chair next to Judd's little crib. Judd was awake and cooing softly.

Zeke slowly lumbered up to the crib and, reaching over, touched Judd's velvety smooth skin. It felt cool and alive, eliciting a broad smile from the big sergeant.

"Hey there, son. You feelin' better today? Are ya? You are somethin'."

He gazed at the squirming infant for a long minute, not noticing that Sarah was awake and watching him. She was so taken aback by the gentleness of this rugged man. He felt her eyes on him and looked up.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, I didn't mean to wake you—"He took his crutch and made like he was going. Sarah shifted in her seat and stretched.

"Would you like to hold him, Sergeant?" She said, yawning.

Zeke's face lit up and like a little child he nodded his head and made his way back to the crib. Sara got up and moved toward him. "You sit down—you don't look too steady on your feet." He did what he was told, as Sarah collected the squirming baby. She placed Judd in the sergeant's arms and crouched down next to them.

"Hey little soldier. You're looking mighty fine. No fever," he said, running a beefy hand over Judd's little face. He looked down at Sarah, and noticed for the first time that though she was smiling, her eyes were guarded. He studied her for a long minute, as she gazed at the newborn baby. He realized then that no one was with her—she was alone—just she and the baby.

"Just a low-grade fever. He's almost totally rehydrated and he's drinking his formula with no problem. I think we'll be able to ship out tomorrow. There's an orphanage down south that can take good care of him. And who knows? I might just take him home with me."

A look of surprised joy spread across Zeke's face. "Well, now. If that ain't the best news I've heard in a long time!" He looked down at the dozing infant in his arms, unconsciously shaking his head from side to side. "You just might have yourself a real home, son. That would make you the luckiest kid in Vietnam!" He held Judd close, filled with hope for this little orphan.

Sarah stood up and walked over to the window. "There's a lot of red tape, but I think I can do it. We'll see when we get to the Home." She starred for a long time at the dismal camp outside her window.

Zeke saw the faraway look in her eyes as he rocked his little charge to sleep. A short time passed as Zeke wondered how to ask a question that had been bothering him ever since he saw her on the chopper ride home. In typical Zeke fashion, he decided to just come out with it.

"Ma'am, I been wonderin' how you found Baker—and what you were doin' so far from your ville, alone…."

Sarah knew he would eventually want to know. She sighed a heavy sigh and focused on a point outside the window.

"The VC had tracked you to our ville. When we wouldn't tell them which way you had gone, they killed my husband and took the baby and me into the forest to find you. Private Baker shot one of the VC and we escaped. Your lieutenant found us a few hours later."

Zeke closed his eyes and let his head fall back onto the soft chair.

"I am so sorry," he finally managed to say. Sarah wiped a tear from her cheek as the grief built a lump in her throat.

"It's okay, ya know? I've got to believe that there are reasons for everything that happens in this life—there's a reason God wanted Judd to live and Tom to die. You found that baby for a reason, Sergeant. He should have died, but you were there at just the right time. And then you found me. And now Judd will live." She turned and looked at the soldier and the child. "It's okay. I don't understand it, but it's all gonna be okay."

Zeke just stared at her in disbelief. After a long moment he found his voice.

"I was raised by nuns, you know? I was an orphan too, just like Judd here. And they used to say stuff like that when bad things used to happen. I believed them until I came over here and now, seeing what I've seen, it's hard to believe there's a purpose in anything that happens here." He shook his head slowly, trying to make sense of it all.

Sarah walked back to his side and knelt down. She looked up into his deep blue eyes and gently laid her hand on his arm.

"You have to believe it, Sergeant. Sometimes that hope is the only thing we have to hold onto."

TODTODTODTODTODTODTOD

Early the next morning Sarah and Judd found their way to Zeke's room. All the guys were up, eating breakfast. She peeked her head in the door and smiled.

"Up for a visitor?" she said as she walked in. Johnson and Baker looked up from their trays and grinned.

"Hey it's the little guy..!" Johnson said, putting down his toast. Baker threw off his covers and painfully got out of bed and walked over to Sarah and the child.

"I'm so glad you're here—I mean, I wanted to thank you for saving my life—when you shot the VC…" Bake said sincerely.

Sarah shook her head and smiled. "It's okay, private. Here…." She handed him the squirming bundle in her arms. "You're looking much better than the last time I saw you."

Baker carefully took the baby and held him close. "Hey there-aren't you preeeeettty!" He smiled and cooed as he walked the infant over to see Johnson. Sarah couldn't help but giggle at the way the husky private fussed over the little guy in his arms. Zeke laughed from his perch on his bed across the room.

"Baker speaks his language" he said to Sarah, as she made her way over to his bedside.

"We're shipping out today, Sergeant, but I didn't want to leave without giving you our address, in case you ever wanted to come by and visit Judd." She handed him a piece of paper. On it was an address in the states and the name of the orphanage in Cahm Rahn Bay. Zeke accepted the addresses and looked up at the tired woman.

"That's a really big thing you're doin', Ma'am. I mean, now Judd'll have a chance to actually BE someone. It's like, it's the only good thing I've seen come out of this war…"

Sarah gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze as they watched Baker and Johnson fuss over the baby. "You keep lookin' for good things, Sergeant. And when you think you can't find any, you think of little Judd." She left his side and made Baker give up the sleeping baby.

"You take care, now, boys. Get better and stay alive." They said their goodbyes and she walked back to Zeke. Handing him the child, she noticed how easily he fell into the role of protector, how gentle and comfortable he was with this helpless infant.

"You be a good man, Judd-boy. You grow up now and listen to your momma, and make me proud." He kissed his little forehead and took one last look at the little guy of which he had grown so fond.

"You take care, now. And if there's ever anything he needs, anything at all, you find me, ya hear?" Zeke said softly. Sarah smiled and took Judd into her arms.

"I will. Thank you, Sergeant." And with that, she left the men to their thoughts.

Zeke leaned back on his pillow and closed his eyes. He held the addresses tightly in his hand and sighed.

_Finally_, he thought to himself. _Life instead of death_.

TODTODTODTODTODTODTODTODTOD

Two months later a letter came to Firebase Ladybird addressed to Sgt. Ezekial Anderson. Zeke rarely received mail and was excited to read it. He found a spot in a foxhole against some sandbags and opened his precious letter.

_Dear Sgt. Anderson—_

_We have been at the Cahm Rahn Bay Children's Home for 8 weeks now. Judd is doing well and growing like a weed. He is a happy little guy and brings much joy to me and the other workers here at the Home. The Home was in great need of a nurse, so I have decided to stay on here for as long as I am needed. It is safe here for now. There is a large military presence here in the city, which seems to keep the VC at bay._

_A group of men from our agency went back to our ville and brought Tom's body home. We had a formal burial ceremony for him, which provided some closure for me. Having Judd has given me so much comfort. I truly believe that in saving Judd, you saved me also. And for that I will be forever grateful._

_I have filed all the paperwork to officially adopt Judd. That way when my time here is through, we can go home to the states together. He needed a legal name, so I named him Judd Ezekial Barns—I hope you don't mind. I want him to be connected with his past, and you made his past and his future possible by just doing the right thing at the right time, under very difficult circumstances._

_God be with you, Sergeant. Take care of yourself and I hope that soon, you will be going home, too. _

_Sincerely,_

_Sarah and Judd Barns_

Out from behind the letter fell a small snap-shot of a laughing baby boy.

Zeke's eyes glistened as a smile spread across his face. He carefully folded the letter and tucked it and the picture in his shirt. Johnson walked by and stopped, curious to know who the letter was from.

"Letter from you Ex, Sarge?" he said, extending a hand to help the big sergeant up.

"Nope, from Judd's momma—" he said as he let Johnson pull him up to his full height. Johnson smiled.

"Hey—how's the little guy doin'?" he asked as they walked towards the mess tent.

"Real good, Johnson, real good. And you know what? Just knowing that is the best feeling in the world!"

_Fin_


End file.
